Sparrow's Journey: Chapter Eighteen
WRITTEN: 3 September 2012 Chapter Eighteen: The Return of the Hero of Strength A week had passed and Sparrow’s birthday was upon them, not that Sparrow knew. He believed that Reaver was there only for a casual visit, but when Samuel and his grandfather, Clive, turned up, Sparrow became suspicious. ‘Okay, what’s going on?’ Sparrow demanded once Clive and Samuel had put their belongings in a spare room, Reaver would be sharing Sparrow’s room. ‘What is with all the surprised visits?’ ‘I invited them,’ Penelope answered, getting afternoon tea ready for everyone. ‘Invited them for a visit?’ ‘No, for your birthday.’ Sparrow stared at his friends blankly. ‘My what?’ ‘Your birthday, dear.’ ‘When’s my birthday?’ His friends turned and looked at him. ‘You don’t know when your own birthday is?’ Samuel questioned. ‘The last time I celebrated my birthday was when I was five. After that I focused on training and my birthday just slipped my mind,’ Sparrow admitted, before frowning and asking, ‘How do you know it’s my birthday?’ ‘Your Aunt Theresa stopped by one day and told me,’ replied Penelope. ‘She believed it was time that you had some celebration in your life.’ Sparrow smiled with Theresa’s continuous looking out for him. ‘So when is my birthday?’ Sparrow asked. ‘Tomorrow.’ Tomorrow soon came and while Sparrow was sleeping in, his friends assembled and arranged everything. They were all excited, especially to see Sparrow’s reaction to his special gift. Sparrow ended up sleeping in until morning tea time. ‘Penelope, did you close my curtains?’ Sparrow yawned as he walked into the living room where his friends were currently relaxing. Sparrow always left his curtains open so he could rise with the sun. ‘Yes, I did, dear. I thought you could sleep in today,’ the elderly woman replied. ‘Why?’ Sparrow said, crashing on the couch next to Reaver. ‘You’ve forgotten your birthday again so soon?’ Walter questioned, trying not to smile. ‘I’m not good at remembering dates,’ Sparrow yawned again. ‘Blind too,’ Reaver said seriously. ‘How am I blind?’ Sparrow demanded. ‘If you weren’t blind, you would have reacted differently when you entered the room.’ Sparrow stared at his friend, wondering what he had been drinking, before looking around the room. He smiled and jumped to his feet when he realised what Reaver was talking about. ‘Theresa, what are you doing here?’ Sparrow exclaimed, embracing his aunt. ‘I am here to celebrate your birthday, Little Sparrow,’ she replied, holding him tightly. ‘You have grown since we last met; in more ways than one.’ ‘Thanks… I think.’ ‘And he is still oblivious,’ Reaver shook his head, while most of the occupants of the room tried not to smile. ‘Oblivious to what?’ asked Sparrow, looking around again. When he saw it, he was shocked. He could do nothing but stare at the beautiful woman across from him. ‘Hello, Sparrow. Long-time no see,’ she said, with a smile. She looked exactly as Sparrow remembered her, except she seemed to have gotten even more stunning. Not a day had gone by when he did not think about her and what he planned to say when they met again, but now, that his dream was real, he didn’t know what to say or how to act. ‘Hi… Hammer,’ Sparrow said, not knowing what else to say. For several minutes the room was silent, in which Hammer and Sparrow just stared at each other, neither of them knowing how to act, while everyone else watched. Theresa eventually came to Sparrow’s rescue. ‘You better get changed, Little Sparrow,’ she said. ‘We’re taking you to Bower Lake for a picnic lunch.’ Sparrow nodded and fled from the room. ‘That was awkward,’ Reaver commented, sounding amused with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. ‘It was just from the sudden shock of seeing each other again,’ replied Theresa. ‘Let’s hope so,’ said Clive. ‘If not, this will not be an enjoyable picnic.’ Once Sparrow was ready, the party made their way to Bower Lake, though Penelope, Theresa and Clive all took a carriage in order to set everything up before everyone else arrived. It was also because Penelope and Clive stated that they wouldn’t be able to walk the distance. While Reaver, Samuel and Walter led the way, Sparrow and Hammer took up the rear. ‘I heard how you saved Bowerstone from the Temple of Shadows,’ Hammer said conversationally. ‘That was really brave of you.’ ‘It wasn’t as though I could just sit back and do nothing,’ replied Sparrow, slowly getting over his awkwardness. ‘Anyway, let’s not talk about such depressing topics. How’s life with the Warrior Monks?’ ‘It’s nearly as painful as living with the Temple of Light monks,’ Hammer sighed. ‘They have that many rules about transcending violence that I can’t remember them all.’ ‘So do you believe you made the wrong choice by going there?’ Sparrow asked curiously. ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘While I have a better understanding about violence, like knowing when it is completely necessary, I don’t feel like I’ve benefited much from it.’ ‘Will you return?’ ‘Of course, I am a monk. I belong in a Temple with other monks.’ ‘But are you happy?’ ‘I guess so,’ Hammer shrugged, ‘but sometimes I wonder if I was really meant to be a monk. Sometimes I wonder if I was destined to be something else.’ ‘What makes you think that?’ ‘It’s just something in my heart doesn’t feel right, and in my dreams… I am never a monk.’ Sparrow remained silent, unsure how to respond. ‘So tell me… will your girlfriend be joining us?’ Hammer suddenly asked. ‘My what? Oh… no. I don’t have one. I’m still single. There have been a few girls interested in me, but they were only fan girls. None of them interested me.’ ‘Only a few?’ Hammer raised her eyebrows with a “yeah right” unbelieving look. ‘Okay, a lot of girls, but they were all the same.’ Hammer laughed gently. ‘You’ll find your special someone someday,’ she said confidently. The picnic turned out to be very enjoyable indeed. It was full of laughter and story swapping. Everyone, except Sparrow, enjoyed listening to Theresa’s stories about Sparrow’s childhood and teenage years with her. They laughed, gasped and rolled their eyes in all the right places while Sparrow tried to hide his face. ‘I’m glad that I could be of some entertainment.’ Sparrow gave a mockingly annoyed sigh. Eventually all of Penelope’s fabulous cooking had been eaten and they all started to quiet down. ‘How’s the Academy going, Samuel?’ asked Sparrow. ‘It’s going better than we imagined!’ Samuel informed Sparrow ecstatically. ‘People from all over Albion come and go each and every day! And each day I hear them wondering about who was the generous individual who started the fine establishment was.’ ‘I’m surprised the word hasn’t gotten out yet,’ Sparrow replied mildly. ‘Don’t you think it is about time you let everyone know that it was you that founded the Brightwall Academy?’ Clive suggested. ‘Why? It’s not like it’s important for them to know who founded it,’ Sparrow shrugged. ‘If it is not important, why not let them know?’ asked Hammer, innocently. Sparrow opened his mouth to tell her why, but realised that he had no answer. ‘Fine, you win,’ he sighed. ‘Let the people know if you wish.’ He looked over at the gypsy camp. ‘I’m going to go to my caravan and pick up my Fate Cards,’ he informed his friends, getting to his feet. ‘Fate cards?’ everyone except Theresa questioned. They were all wondering why Sparrow would have Fate Cards. ‘Yeah… they’re cards that help predict the future –‘ ‘We know what Fate Cards are,’ Walter interrupted. ‘We just cannot believe that you would have some.’ ‘Yeah, I’ve inherited some of Theresa’s ability to see the future,’ Sparrow explained casually. ‘So Theresa taught me how to read Fate Cards to harness my ability.’ ‘Not that he ever cared to listen to my teachings,’ Theresa said, getting to her feet. ‘He found sword practice much more interesting and practical.’ ‘And to a certain extent I still think that,’ Sparrow muttered. Theresa turned her blind gaze upon Sparrow. ‘I heard that,’ she said. ‘Come on, you have to admit that if I was attacked knowing how to use a sword would save me more than pulling out Fate Cards and reading what is to happen,’ Sparrow argued. ‘He has a point,’ Walter, Reaver and Hammer said in unison. Theresa turned her cool gaze upon the other Heroes and Walter, before looking back at Sparrow and saying, ‘I shall company you. I have to pick something up too.’ ‘Shall we then?’ Sparrow offered his aunt his arm. She accepted it and together they headed for the gypsy camp. ‘I hope no one notices us,’ Sparrow muttered, sounding uncomfortable. ‘Why is that?’ ‘Bowerstone may have gotten used to me, but Bower Lake and Oakfield… I seriously doubt that they would have. They have the most reason to hate me.’ ‘And why does that make any difference to them noticing you?’ ‘I just don’t feel like being glared and hiss at… even though I deserve it.’ ‘I believe you have made up for what you have done,’ Theresa said calmly. ‘I can never make up for what I have done.’ Theresa didn’t reply. Instead, she patted his arm and went to her caravan, while Sparrow snuck over to his. He then grabbed his Fate Cards, and left the camp unnoticed. Theresa was waiting for him on the bridge. They walked back to their friends together. ‘What did you have to get?’ Sparrow asked Theresa. ‘You’ll see,’ she replied mysteriously. '-----SPARROW’S JOURNEY-----' When the companions arrived back home, they gave Sparrow their gifts. This startled Sparrow; he hadn’t been expecting any. ‘Here you go, kid,’ said Reaver, passing Sparrow a heavy parcel. ‘Should I be worried?’ Sparrow joked. ‘No, it is a practical gift.’ Turned out, Reaver wasn’t lying. His gift was practicable. He had bought Sparrow the pest pistol on the market. ‘I noticed that your pistol was a little out dated.’ Reaver shrugged carelessly when Sparrow thanked him. Clive and Samuel had gotten Sparrow some novels, while Walter and Penelope got him some new clothes. ‘You really needed some new clothes, dear,’ said Penelope. ‘Most of yours has holes and dirt stains in them.’ ‘Um… they’re not all dirt stains,’ Sparrow admitted, accepting Theresa’s gift. He gasped when he saw what was inside. ‘Theresa… how -?’ ‘I have been watching my brother’s descendants for many years,’ she said quietly. ‘It was I who told Matt of your trouble all those years ago. While he took you and Rose to Bowerstone, I went to your destroyed house and found a few items Matt had missed. I thought you would like to have them.’ Sparrow was almost on the brink of crying with joy. In his hands were some of his father’s research, a slightly burnt small portrait of him and his family, and … ‘I thought I destroyed my toy sword and gun?’ Sparrow said holding up his old toys. ‘They would have been if you had better aim. They missed the fire. They are what I was receiving from my caravan.’ ‘Thank you, Theresa.’ Hammer handed Sparrow over a small package. He accepted it and when he saw what it was, he looked at her quickly. ‘Where did you get this?’ he whispered. ‘On my journey up north, I helped this elderly woman and she gave it to me in payment,’ Hammer said quietly. ‘When Theresa came and invited me to your birthday celebration, she saw it on my dresser. The engraving on the back told her exactly what it was.’ Sparrow was speechless. ‘What is it, dear?’ Penelope asked the stunned Sparrow. ‘My mother’s locket,’ he whispered. ‘I thought I’d never see it again after that hag made Rose give it to her.’ He turned it over and read the engraving on the back. ‘''To my angel… yours until the end of time… love Matt''. Thank you… all of you!’ Sparrow beamed around at his friends. ‘There is still one more present,’ Walter said, grinning over at his brother-in-everything-except-blood. Before Sparrow could say anything, Hammer had him blindfolded. ‘Hey! What’s the blindfold for?’ he demanded. No one answered him. Instead, they laughed and led him outside. From there they took him into Bowerstone Old Town to where Matt’s children had made their wish. ‘Why have you taken me to Old Town?’ Sparrow questioned, knowing immediately where they were, regardless of the blindfold. ‘And why is it so quiet? Can I take the blindfold off?’ ‘Of course,’ said Hammer. Sparrow could tell from her voice that she was amused. Frowning, Sparrow removed the blindfold before jumping violently as he was met by a large cheer and round of, ‘SURPRISE!’ All of Bowerstone seemed to be there as were people from other regions of Albion. ‘Holy sh -!’ Sparrow backed away slightly, trying to catch his breath, while the people around him laughed. ‘What’s going on -?’ Sparrow’s eyes fell upon a huge statue of himself. ‘What the -?’ A little girl walked over to him and handed him a letter. Sparrow mutely accepted it, too confused to talk. He opened it and quietly read it. Everyone watched him intently. To the Hero amongst Heroes, The People of Albion, an organisation formed by representatives from every region in the land and every walk of life, thank you for your selfless sacrifice in the Tattered Spire. We do not pretend to comprehend the events that took place there, yet all that matters is that those who were taken from us are alive. To celebrate their return, your thirtieth birthday, and to remember your heroic endeavour, we have erected a statue in your honour. We hope you like it, The People of Albion Sparrow looked up from his letter and with a shock; he recognised slaves, guards and soldiers from the Spire present. Astonishingly, he saw Bob holding a woman – Sparrow assumed that she was Lil – closely. He was smiling at the Hero. Sparrow opened his mouth to say thanks, but he was so overwhelmed that no words came out, but no words needed to come out… everyone understood.